20 August 2008


I discovered Listography today.

Totally amazing. Which gives me an opportunity to tell a story. The first lists I ever loved were written by my mother. I found a small, spiral notebook with her handwritten domestic lists: what to buy at the store, who to buy presents for, plants to water, tasks to do at home. For reasons I don't understand now (but completely fits my compulsion to 'save' things by altering them from their original state), I tore all the pages out of the spiral and put them in a small photo album. For years I made artwork about them, occasionally using one or two in a collage. Too precious to use that way often, they are still in the original photo album, but not displayed. Rather they are stacked all on top of each other and squished into a cellophane sleeve. Reminders of the life she once lived, I read them as a diary of her days. Looked for myself in the notes and lightly crossed out pencil. Her handwriting is marvelous and curly, neat.

These lists are at least 30 years old.

And then all the things I learned about my sisters, and the notes they would scribble on her pad of paper: Dad this is how you spell Alton Sveum, Heidi can't come to lessons because Heidi's invited out to a movie and she is going to sleep over, and how to spell princess, for example.

I've posted all of them on Flickr.

Mini-list of the day:
  • Purchase 80ytl fan
  • Contemplate the following impulse book buys: The Designer's Toolkit: 1,000 Colors; The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society; No Plot? No Problem!
  • Move books to wishlist (listing them is nearly as good as buying them)
  • Fold mountainous pile of laundry still sitting there from last weekend
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